Yesterday afternoon we had to have our Beagle, What, put to sleep. Since he had been diagnosed with bladder cancer several months ago, his condition had steadily declined. He was not eating, and was having difficulty breathing. He was unable to climb the stairs to our deck. There was no real quality to his life.

I made an appointment with our vet earlier in the morning. Later I searched the Internet for details on "the procedure”. I got caught up in many stories and poems of those who had lost pets before. You can read what I read at http://www.leerburg.com/bridge.htm. This was the beginning of what would be a red-eyed evening.

In the afternoon we took What into a shady spot in the front yard. We laid on the grass with him and gave him a good brushing with his brush and pet and loved on him. He seemed to enjoy the attention.

We all went into the vet’s office together. The vet examined him and as we expected, What's difficult breathing was caused by the cancer spreading to his lungs. The doctor gave What a dog treat, but he refused. This confirmed to us he was ready, and so were we. My wife and my oldest daughter, 14, chose to wait out in the lobby. I stayed with my youngest daughter, 11, who wants to be a vet one day, for the procedure.

Since What's body was failing him, the vet had some trouble finding a vein to give the injection. He had to get some clippers to shave What's leg so he could see the vein. The noise of the clippers seemed to bother What some. Out of habit, the assistant put What in a choke hold to prevent him from squirming. Her grip was a little tight, and What was actually choking. It seemed silly to mention it considering what was about to happen, but I said "He can't breathe." So she let What lay on the table on his stomach with his head down.

Once he found a good vein and started the injection, What's fast breathing slowed, then stopped. The was no struggle or sound. In seconds, it was over. It was a relief to see him not breathing so fast. I rubbed his head and made sure his eyes were closed. Of course my recollection of events are blurred, because I was all teared up. My daughter surprised me by asking if I was ok, then we both broke down. The doctor said it was never an easy thing to do, but it was the best thing for What. The assistant said something about What was now chasing squirrels in Heaven. And the doctor gave us another poem to read.

As the evening went on, we remembered all the good times we had with What over the years. Especially his name. Most people didn't know his full AKC name was What Doya Know. He would have been seven years old May 11.

There was a terrible emptiness in seeing his dog house, dog toys and food bowls on the patio. Several times I caught my self looking out the glass door for him to be sitting there.

I was most impressed with how my girls handled themselves. They've been though a lot with the loss of family members over the past few years.

And later this summer, we'll start all over again, with a new pet.